Desert Missionary
by Jennie Arnold
Summary: Ray is just a reporter but his life changes when he gets assigned to the Senri Desert.


Late Monday night, a journalist sits at his computer wondering where to start. Not long ago the reporter left the busy streets of Chicago and came to the vast wasteland that was the Sanri Desert. It was hard to imagine that he had only been away two weeks. More had happened in that forgotten desert than in the largest city in Illinois. A realization came to the journalist; the only place to start is the beginning…

A man in an expensive silk suit with a sleek haircut walked up to his boss' office on the second floor of the building labeled "The Chicago Tribune." As he made his way up the staircase he gave himself the old pep talk: "You are Ray Charleson, the best journalist in Chicago."

Ra was a fine reporter. In fact he had even gotten a new raise and had been invited to dinner with the boss and his wife. Ray confindently hoped that his boss was calling him in for another raise or to tell him about a golfing trip. When Ray got there, he found that golfing and raises were not what the boss had called him for.

A portly, bald man in a gray suit held up the competitors' paper. The cover read "War Among Tribes in the Sanri Desert". The competitor had just sold record-breaking numbers of this newspaper all over Chicago.

Ray's boss said, "People buy this tripe! They go nuts over some guy who can quote people. You know the guy who wrote this article never even went into the desert? He just talked to local townspeople!"

The boss stormed on and on about this until Ray said, "That's too bad, boss."

"Too bad? You mean too bad for them! I am going to send a real reporter down there that is not afraid to spend a week or two in the desert. You up for the job Ray?"

"What? But I…"

Not giving Ray a chance to back out, the boss jumped in, "You care the best reporter we have here. You can write this story."

"The story is not what I am worried about. I can't go into the Sanri Desert. I don't know the tribes' language or anything."

"You don't need to. The Udong tribe has an American missionary with them. We'll take care of you there."

By noon that day, Ray agreed to go to Sanri. The plane would leave the next night.

On the plane Ray had a feeling that he shouldn't go but it was too late now. He wished he could turn back. This feeling intensified when the plane started to descend. After he stepped off the plane all he could see was sand for miles.

The dunes rose and fell like giant waves. Without a breath of air to move them, they remained stationary and intimidating against the blue sky that had no end.

A women and three small children held up a sign with Ray's name on it. He walked over to them and introduced himself. The woman apologized for her husband, the missionary, being unable to come.

The ride to the Udongs' village was long and uncomfortable as sweat drenched Ray's body. The uncomfortable silence was broken as the car drove into the village. Locals surrounded them. Children came dangerously close to the car yelling greetings in their own language. Men ran to the church and called, "Haraz! Haraz!"

A man in his mid-fifties came out with a smile on his face. He greeted Ray with a friendly handshake. "Welcome, my friend. I am the missionary from New York. You have already met my wife and daughters." Haraz paused and said, "These are the dear people of Udong."

"May I have your name so that I may quote you?" Ray wanted to get started quickly. The sooner he started, the sooner he could finish.

"The people here call me Haraz. In the Udong language it means 'man of God'. My given name is Charles Manning but you may call me Haraz if you wish." The two men spent the next several hours side by side as Ray was given a tour of the town.

The church was the only building that had a roof made of wood. The houses in the village were made of leaves and long, bamboo-like sticks. The homes were simple in design. Each house had four walls crudely made of the sticks. The roofs were only a handful of leaves sewn together. The church seemed like the only building that was meant to last in the town.

In the center of the town there was a small pool of water. This was the only source of drinkable water for miles. The Udong's most valuable resource was the water. It was rationed carefully. The penalty for stealing water was death. That made sense in the desert climate.

It was one of the few things that made sense to Ray in the Udong village. The chief would come to the church with other tribe leaders and soon be deep in conversation with Haraz. They would argue for what seemed like hours but Ray could not understand what was being said.

Ray quickly grew very close to Haraz and his family. He don't know the Udong language so who else could he talk to? Haraz and his wife were exact opposites. Haraz was a friendly, outspoken man. His wife, Jessica, was a quiet person and a good listener.

When Ray had a moment to himself he would relax in the shade of the church and watch the girls play with the Udong children. In the desert everyone stayed in the shade. At noon, in the unbearable heat of the day, when there was hardly a shadow, the people would stay indoors. It seemed like contradiction of nation at nation when it would get near freezing.

The worst things about night in Udong were the war raides. Men from the enemy tribe would sneak in the darkness and try to steal supplies. The most valuable of these was the water. The men of Udong fought to save the water. Without it they would die.

The enemy attacked everyone who stood in their way. Young men died every night trying to save the water. The raiders would not only attack men, the women are hurt, killed and sometimes kidnapped.

The Mannings were good people. They had a perfect marriage with beautiful children. Ray wondered what possessed them to come to the Sanri Desert. They could be safe in America. In America, where you could get water from a faucet, you wouldn't be isolated from the world, and there was air conditioning. Not to mention the fact that there were no tribal wars in America. Why would this family give up the life they could have had in America for a desert?

The more Ray thought about this question the more it confused him. What did the Mannings have that was so special? They weren't out here hiding from the world. They left civilization for what? To watch two tribes kill each other in the desert?

One night Ra searched for answers as he spoke with Jessica. The only answer she could give was that God led them here. This was not an answer to Ray. God led people to death sometimes. Surely the Mannings knew that! Following God only signed you life to a lost cause. God didn't bother Ray and Ray didn't bother Him. Ray liked it that way.

Ray thought that a walk would clear his head. He walked under the hot sun circleing the pool that was in the center of town. The sun sank into the horizon. As Ray walked, he noticed two men hiding behind a tree. Of course Ray couldn't understand them because they spoke the Udong language. Their voices were harsh whispers with urgency holding tightly in them. Ray walked away, not wanting to get involved and quickly forgetting the whole thing.

The next morning there was nothing but arguing going from Haraz and the chief. Ray could not tell what they were arguing about but the angry yells of the chief and the pleading voice of Haraz was heard from every from every corner of the village.

Ray could not stand the argument any longer so he went to his room to write. When he came back, sunset was nearing. IN the mist of commotion the thud of a body falling came from Haraz's hut. Ray stood with his body flexed, ready to run, until he saw Jessica and the girls come out of the hut with a frightened look on all their faces. The tear streaked faces of the children stared back at Ray pleading for help. A guard stood in front of Haraz's hut door.

Ray stood in stunned silence until several strong hands grabbed Ray and forced hom back against a tree. Men wrappws rope around him tightly. Then Jessica and her children were tied to a far-off tree. Soon the men of the tribe began to cut down all the trees that surrounded the oasis and laid them near the feet of the tree that held Jessica and her daughters.

Ray struggled to get free but could not. The ropes were so tight that all he could do was watch in horror as the wood under Jessica and her sweet children were set on fire. The flames quickly spread all around the tree. Ray closed his eyes not wanting to see.

No one could hear the girls praying over the roar of the flames. The men of the tribe hollered joyously as the flames engulfed the Manning women.

After this the tribe had a great feast. Haraz was kept locked in his hut and Ray remained tied to the tree. Ray smelled the stink of smoke and ash all around him. The frightened faces of the Manning girls haunted him.

As the sun rose again Ray was brought into Haraz's hut. The wound on Haraz's head still bled profusely. Haraz was still morning the loss of his family. During the days that followed Haraz wanted to be isolated. Ray let him have the time alone, not wanting to disturb him. What would Ray say if Haraz wanted to talk? After two days of mourning Haraz was ready to speak.

Haraz felt like he owed it to Ray to talk. Ray's first fear was that they were next to be killed. Haraz explained that the Udong tribe was losing the war. Their chief thought that they should go back to worshipping their old gods. Is was against the law to kill men but the chief felt that the curse of this god was coming from Haraz's family.

In the evening, the door to the hut was opened. The danger was gone but the evil remained. Ray wanted to leave the Sanri desert as soon as he could. His plans were that he and Haraz would leave on the next plane to America. Haraz had a different plan. He offered to drive Ray to the airport but refused to go to America.

"Ray," Haraz said, "when I was mourning in the hut I prayed to God. I need to forgive these people just as He forgave us. They must see the Lord's love."

"They just killed your family! How can you just forgive them? They don't deserve forgiveness," Ray cried out to his friend.

"God forgave us when we didn't deserve to be forgiven. We killed His only son and He forgave us."

"What are you talking about? You and I didn't kill His son; that happened centuries ago!"

"We may have not been there physically, but every person that has ever been or ever will be alive has a part in Christ's suffering. 'For all have sinning and fallen short of the glory of God.'"

Ray pleaded with Haraz to leave this behind and come to America. Haraz always answered that God told him to stay with the tribe.

On the lonely plane Ray started thinking about what Haraz said. An ominous feeling rose up inside him. The more he thought about how he was there when Jesus was killed, the more resolved he became. Ray knew what he had to do. On the airplane Ray bowed his head and prayed for forgiveness. It was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He had heard about Jesus all his life, but never really understood. Everything was different now. On that plane Ray prayed for Jesus to live in him and for the peace Haraz felt to dwell in him.

Ray knew that if Haraz could forgive the tribe for what they did, so could he.


End file.
